


Jos' ex is a f-

by j_obsessed



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Break Up, Cheating, Couch Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forehead Kisses, Happy Ending, M/M, Not Craig Kieswetter Friendly, Pining, Protective Joe Root
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24021844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: I had emotions. They needed an outlet. Please enjoy. Joe is the best Friend* ever. God they are so in LOVE. Hope you guys enjoy the story <3
Relationships: (past) Jos Buttler/Craig Kieswetter, Jos Buttler/Joe Root
Comments: 18
Kudos: 21





	Jos' ex is a f-

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if anyone happened to catch the live, the two did together on Instagram a few nights ago, that absolutely KILLED ME, there were so many gems, I absolutely am going to have to write a fic about that... 
> 
> ALSO, the white petal mention is something from A Roses Match by @sherlockguineapig which is quite possibly the most brilliant thing I've ever read, and made me sob about 47 times. The mention of the white petal in particular, had me gone. <3 Go read it, it's amazing.

***

It’s late. And Joe is absolutely utterly exhausted. He’s been through four (and a half, if you count that little ‘chat’ in the corridor) meetings today, and they’ve all been absolutely boring as fuck. Honestly, captaincy is a lot of damn work. He loves it, loves being out in the field, with _his_ team, feels incredible pride every single time, whether they win or lose (or draw…).

But the current point is that Joe is about to collapse into bed, and it’s only, _he checks his watch,_ 6:30. Sigh. When did he become a grandpa? He unlocks his door, almost falling through it, stumbling through his apartment in the darkness. It’s only him since he’s not one for relationships- (is what he says), but he would admit (albeit, not very readily) that it does get a bit quiet without anyone around. Although. He doesn’t really want just _anyone_ though.

Okay, so he’s got his eye on someone. But. That someone is very much so taken. Even if their significant other is an absolute utter fucking dickface, and Joe would really like to punch him in the face… Sigh. (That’s twice, in almost two minutes.)

Joe decides he really probably should eat something before he escapes from the world for a good _fourteen_ - _hour_ nap. He makes himself a bowl of pasta- with cream sauce, _his favourite,_ just to torture himself. He watches some random TV, flipping through every rom-com channel with particular antagonism until he comes across an old ENG vs WI ODI. That is the last damn straw. Fuck that. Fuck this. He curses the universe for doing this to him. Giving up, he puts his unfinished pasta in the fridge (after he covers it because he’s not an idiot), and collapses into bed. Doesn’t even bother to take off the tracks and shirt- (he’d stolen this particular shirt from _him_ actually… fuck today is just the worst isn’t it). He’ll deal with life tomorrow. His phone rings once, but it’s cut off before he can even answer it. He gives up on it too, doesn’t bother looking at it at all, he’s far too tired, and far too done with it all. He goes to sleep with a blonde wicketkeeper on his mind.

He doesn’t sleep all that well. Tossing and turning and he can’t for the life of him understand why his body won’t let him rest. He’s been exhausted for the better part of three hours, but he just can’t seem to stay asleep. _Dammnit._

Just as he’s falling asleep, (or so he hopes- he sighs again, no, he wasn’t falling asleep, he’s doomed to sleepless nights for the rest of forever… okay he knows he’s being overdramatic, but he is goddamn entitled, leave him alone-) he’s startled by his doorbell. Blinking, slightly confusedly, he presses the home button on his phone. It’s still only just approaching midnight, but who the fuck is visiting him at this hour, on a damn Tuesday. They’re in the off-season, so it couldn’t be one of his teammates, they’re all back home. He gets out of bed and runs a hand through his hair. He’s almost tempted to grab a frying pan from the kitchen as he passes by before he reasons with himself that, maybe, that’s a little bit paranoid.

He opens the door to a red-eyed, puffy cheeked, distraught Jos Buttler. Joe’s awake. Immediately. Instantly. A fire alarm couldn't get him as alert as this just did. The older boy barely looks up before he collapses into Joe’s chest.

Joe is a little bit panicked. 

Jos looks wrecked. His hair is messed up, which is usually adorably endearing but right now is concerning him, because it seems like it’s been tugged at relentlessly, stressfully. He’s shivering, although, Joe doesn’t think it’s because of the cold, and his eyes are glazed with unshed tears. He’s got a large red suitcase, the one he usually takes on their overseas tours, sitting behind him, which looks as though is about to burst. He’s also got his kit-bag, resting against the wall next to the door. Joe does not know what the fuck to do. So he just, does what his body tells him to. He wraps his arms around his _friend,_ and brings him inside. He sits the boy down on the sofa, and once Joe is sure he isn’t going to collapse, brings the bags into his bedroom. He walks out, before dashing back to grab a duvet, along with a few extra pillows. Once he’s uprooted half his bed, he walks back to the living room.

He hasn’t said anything, and neither has Jos. The latter is just, sitting on the sofa, back straight, head forward, silently, with a hollow, blank expression over his face, staring into space. Joe squats down in front of him, and tries to look him in the eye, however Jos doesn’t seem to be home. Joe’s first thought is; I should call his boyfriend.

But his second thought is; hang on, Jos _lives_ with his boyfriend. It’s probably too late for anyone to think rationally, but thankfully, Joe has some sort of brain presence at the moment. He silently thanks his two brain cells for coming through for him. He takes a deep breath.

Joe places his hand on the boy’s jaw, and finally gets some recognition. Jos blinks up at him.

“Are you hungry?”

Jos cracks an almost, just barely nearly noticeable smile. He doesn’t make a gesture, but Joe knows him too well already, walking into the kitchen, back turned to the older boy.

Wow. Okay. Joseph, keep your calm please. What we are absolutely not going to do, is jump to the conclusion, that our long-term crush (it’s not a crush, it stopped being a crush a long time ago…) has broken up with _his_ long-term boyfriend. And we are ABSOLUTELY NOT going to jump to the conclusion that he wants to date you.

He looks at the bowl of pasta he had haphazardly covered and thrown into the fridge earlier. Huh. Maybe he should give the universe and himself some more credit. He did make _his_ favourite after all. He heats up the bowl, and another for himself, in the microwave, sneaking glances at the boy currently stuck like a deer in headlights on his sofa. Jos hasn’t moved a muscle since Joe left the living room two minutes ago. Which is very unlike him. Joe still doesn’t know how to feel.

Because, he suspects, well, he basically _knows_ , from the suitcase, that something’s happened between Craig and Jos, and, the thought almost makes him really really happy, but, he can’t stand seeing the older boy like this. It _hurts._ He returns to the living room with two steaming bowls of carbonara, and sees Jos’ eyes flicker momentarily in recognition, and then land on him, with utter shock, and some gratitude. Joe just smiles at him warmly, “I had already made some, earlier tonight, I had no idea why, I don’t usually like cream sauce. But I guess the universe might know what it’s doing after all.”

Joe sets the bowls down on the coffee table, and sets himself down next to Jos. He tugs the wicketkeeper back, so that he’s slouched, much more comfortably, into the soft cushions (and plastered against his side). He drags the duvet over them both, and hands him a bowl. They eat in silence for a while, and, suddenly, Joe realises, that he feels a lot less alone. It’s still quiet, but, the space around them is warm. Joe sighs, internally this time. He’s so fucked.

Maybe you’ve worked it out by now, but, Joe has a crush.

Okay so you definitely knew that, but.

Joe has a crush on Jos. This Jos.

The one that’s currently trying really hard not to burst into tears, while eating carbonara, on Joe’s sofa.

That Jos.

Okay, so you probably knew that too.

But Joe, has decided that today, he is going to be a Good Friend™ and support Jos, _like a friend would._ That is his decision. He will be following through with it.

Jos, has a way of snapping Joe out of a lot of these thoughts. Joe would call it coincidence, but there’s a marked trend here, that every time Joe is trying to promise himself that he will be a Good Friend™, or Just a Friend™ or whatever along those lines, Jos has a way of killing that thought on the damn spot. With a smile, or a laugh, or a _look,_ or-

“He accused me of cheating on him.” And then quieter. “With you.”

That, is not what Joe expected to hear. The fact that he chokes on a spaghetti strand, makes that obviously clear.

“I know.” Jos just shrugs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to dump that on you like that.”

Joe looks at him, disbelievingly. “No no, um, thank you for telling me. But, uh, why would he think that?”

“I-” something, maybe shame, or possibly resignation, flashes onto Jos’ face for a second. “He- he saw me kiss your forehead at the hospital that day. After the incident with Jofrah. He said that since then, he’s known that we’re not just best friends. He went through my phone, trying to find some evidence I guess, and he saw our texts- which were literally just, friendly, then accused me of deleting our conversations, and he-” Jos winces, “tore the white rose petal I had in my wallet.”

Joe fights really really _really_ hard to keep a poker face, and not go smashing a window. He carefully glances up at Jos.

Joe really, really wants to blow up, and scream about how Craig has no fucking right, and that he _knew_ this guy was not good enough for _his_ (… ignore that) Jos the moment he fucking _met him,_ but Joe has decided to be a Good Friend™ today, so…

“Fuck I’m so sorry, that’s sort of, in a way, my fault. Do you want to tell me the rest? I’m here to listen if you want to talk. Or, I can leave you alone, you can take the bed, I’ll sleep here, and then you can go and explain things tomorrow.” Joe is so unbelievably gone for him, it’s not funny.

“No- god no it’s not your fault at all, and that’s- that’s not happening.”

Joe looks at him, confusedly. “What’s not happening? I’m not letting you go sleep in a hotel while you’re working things out with _him_ Jos, you’re more than welcome here.” Joe realises he’s accidentally stressed the evil word, and grimaces at his own lack of tact. Just because he wants Jos to be happy, doesn’t mean he has to like the idiot boyfriend of the keeper.

Jos gives him a heartbroken stare.

“What, what is it you’re not telling me?” Joe realises how close they’ve gotten, sitting together, Jos basically tucked entirely into his side, as he finally lets out;

“He said he ‘knew I was screwing you’, and that-” Jos swallows, adam's apple moving harshly. “that ‘thank fuck he’s been sleeping with Peter for the past three years because he knew I was a cheating, lying, jealous-” Joe stops listening after those three awful words fall out of Jos’ mouth. Only faintly registers the broken sobs escaping the blonde boy’s throat.

He tugs Jos into his arms completely, just holds the wicketkeeper tightly, tucks him under his chin, tries to make him feel safe. He can’t really stop the angered expletives that fall from his mouth.

“I’ll fucking run him over with my car. That fucking dickface absolutely deserves it Jos, I’m serious, say the word, and I will fucking drive to Somerset, and run him over with my fucking Toyota.”

Jos hiccups a half-sob-half-laugh into his chest at that. “Just drove all the way here, no more driving tonight. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and he’ll get hit by a bus. Also, you just said fuck like four times in a sentence…”

“He’s a fucking twat, and he absolutely deserves that. The bus and the swearing.” He can feel another laugh escape the boy against his chest. Then Joe’s eyes widen. “WAIT YOU DROVE HERE?!”

Jos jolts at the volume. Joe pets his hair placatingly and whispers a few apologies as the older boy nods in admission.

“Does that mean, a few hours ago, on the phone, was that you?”

Jos nods again. Joe doesn’t actually see him nod, just feels the movement against his collarbone, where the taller blonde is currently situated. “Was gonna ask if I could come over, while I was packing up my stuff. He saw I was calling you, and he threw my phone at the wall.” Jos cringes at the words. “Please don’t say you told me so.” Joe is a little shook. Jos just shakes his head. “I know you didn’t like him.” 

Joe feels the tendons in his jaw clench as he swallows. Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that. A whole list. That has just received a few more additions. Fuck, he has to call Jimmy. He needs someone to bash this guys skull in. Seriously. He strokes his fingers across Jos’ forehead softly, absentmindedly really, doesn’t let Jos get more than a millimetre away. Jos doesn’t try.

Joe, without even realising, has leant down slightly, and pressed his lips to Jos’ hair. He holds his breath involuntarily, terrified of the reaction he’s going to receive. Jos just chokes out another sob, and burrows further into Joe’s arms.

“Fuck, Jos I’m so sorry.”

“He kicked me out, I have nowhere to stay, I just took whatever was mine and got in my car and drove. I’m sorry, I didn’t call again, and it’s so late. I just-”

“Jos, I told you. You’re always welcome. Always. You can stay, for as long as you want. As long as you need.”

“I tried explaining to him Joey, I tried so hard. I’d never cheat on him-”

“I know Jos, you don’t have to defend yourself to me.”

“I’d never ever thought he’d cheat on me like that, and for three years Joey, that’s almost the entire time we were dating-”

Joe’s heart clenches. He feels it in his chest, and it hurts like hell. Because who in their right fucking mind would cheat on Jos. God fucking dammnit he wants to be hit by a ball from Jofrah again, if only so that he doesn’t have to feel this. He lets Jos talk, doesn’t interrupt him, just listens.

Jos explains how he had a feeling, a few months ago, when Craig had come home late after a supposed team meeting, with a particular flush across his face. He tells Joe how Craig had called him overly jealous, and got angry at him, and how he’d been too worried to ever bring it up again.

Joe’s fingers continue playing slowly across Jos’ hair, and down over his jaw, smooth soft circular movements as the older boy breaks down in his arms.

“When he said, that I was cheating on him with you. That hurt even more. I’d never use you like that Joey.”

Joe’s heart is fucking breaking. It is actually breaking and fuck he needs to call Jimmy right now. Joe shakes his head softly, and tucks a finger under Jos’ chin to make eye contact. “I know you wouldn’t. I know you Jossa, and I know, I always did know, that you are too good for him.”

Jos turns his face away quickly, tears threatening to breach the dam again, but Joe keeps his hold.

“Will you please look at me?”

Jos blinks desperately, looks upwards, nods, before letting his eyes meet the younger’s.

“You deserve better.” It’s said with such sincerity, such gravity, that Jos can’t do anything but nod, blinking tears away. Joe’s fingers brush under his eyes to help.

“I’m going to call Ali and tell him that we’re not going to be present at dinner tomorrow, is that okay?”

The boy's face pales, and panic flashes across his features. 

Joe notices immediately. “If you’d rather I didn’t tell them-”

“Jimmy already knows.”

“Oh.”

“He suggested I go to you. And, I was supposed to call him, fuck-”

That’s why Jos is panicked. Not because they might find out, but because he hasn’t been able to call his best friends and let them know he’s okay.

Where the fuck does Joe find someone like Jos? (He won’t. He knows. It’s not possible. One of a kind, and all that. Dammnit he’s making himself sad again.)

“We’ll sort out your phone situation in the morning, did you manage to bring everything else of yours from ho- from his place?”

“Yeah, I have everything that’s important.” Joe misses that Jos is looking directly at him when he says this.

“Okay good, come on then.”

Jos looks up at him quizzically, “Come where?”

“We’re going to get you changed, and freshened up, I’m going to call Jimmy, and then we’re going to go to bed.”

Jos is still blinking at him.

Joe smiles fondly, and grabs the wicketkeeper’s hand, dragging him into the bedroom.

Joe hands him a pair of sweats and an old jersey, and shoves Jos into the bathroom. Okay, just because Jos brought his own bags doesn’t mean that he wants to open them right now (plus, Joe thinks Jos would look kind of gorgeous in his clothes…). Jos peeps his head back out almost a second later, and presses a kiss to Joe’s forehead. It’s nice to know that hasn’t changed, even if it is the reason Jos has just been dumped.

Jos has always, since the day they met, been affectionate. With him. With the rest of the team too, sure, but especially him. They’re so close in age, and they connect so well, everything works in perfect synchronicity. They do spend a lot of time together, and Joe almost sees how _Craig_ could’ve been slightly misled. Almost.

If by some chance, Jos wasn’t Jos, then maybe.

But Jos, kind-hearted, team-loving, heart of gold, beautiful, sweet, charming, loving, encouraging Jos, would never cheat, on anybody. Much less can be said of his asshole of an ex-boyfriend. Joe feels the anger flare up again. Once he hears the spray of the shower, (which indicates that Jos will not be able to listen to him on the phone) he immediately dials Jimmy. Never mind that it’s 2am, Joe needs help. Now.

Jimmy picks up the phone on the first ring. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Joe has always been aware, that their resident grump James Anderson, had a soft spot for their keeper.

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck no.”

“Joey…?”

“I’m going to kill him Jimmy, I am going to fucking stab him, or knock him out with my bat, or something fuck I swear if I lived anywhere closer to Somerset, I’d have hit him with my car- how could anyone fucking cheat on him Jimmy I don’t understand.” Joe’s voice is broken, and he’s about to break down himself.

There’s silence for a moment. 

“Cheated??”

“H-he cheated on Jos. Didn’t he tell you?! Three years Jimmy, three years, that asshole has been cheating on Jos.”

Vaguely, Joe registers a loud crash from the other side of the line, along with a string of expletives from Jimmy.

And then Ali’s voice comes through the phone.

“He didn’t tell us that, just said that Kieswetter broke up with him, and that he needed a place to stay for a while.”

Joe can hear Jimmy cursing at the man venomously. Ali whispers a quiet, ‘hold on for two minutes, I’m going to calm Jimmy down first. Joe just breathes out a soft ‘okay’, and waits patiently.

He can hear Ali and Jimmy’s hushed voices across the phone.

_James Anderson put the car keys back where they were._

_I’m just going for a drive. Clear my head, all that._

_Jimmy, babe, I know that’s not-_

_Fuck Ali, I swear, I swear on my life I’m going to ruin him. I’ll call ECB, make sure he never fucking gets signed again._

_James, you have to be rational, Jos is hurt, but it’s not like Craig killed someone-_

_Alastair did you not hear Joey on the phone, he sounds fucking broken-_

_Jos can handle it, he’s going to be okay, he’s in good hands._

_I don’t doubt that but-_

_Jimmy._

_Ali._

_James. Anderson._

_Okay. Okay. Fine._

_You were gonna run him over, weren’t you?_

_Yes. I was going to go run him over with my car and go to jail for first-degree murder Alastair._

It’s supposed to be sarcastic, but Joe can’t really decipher how much Jimmy actually meant that.

They talk for a bit- it’s mostly Jimmy or Joe insulting Jos’ ex-boyfriend but… Jimmy makes Joe promise that he’ll keep them updated, and Ali excuses them from everything cricket related for the next five days. Joe ends the call just as Jos steps out of the bathroom, looking much calmer.

“Hi.”

Joe grins at him.

“Hi sunshine.”

Jos huffs out a laugh. “I don’t feel like sunshine.”

“Nonsense. You are the literal definition. Come here.” Joe pats the spot in front of him, as Jos sits carefully on the side of the bed.

“It’s okay, I can take the couch, I’ll be fine-”

“Jos.” Joe smiles reassuringly. “I told you. You’re always welcome. Don’t let what he said, change the way you are with me. Please.”

“No, I don’t think I could.” It seems as though Jos has more to say about that, so Joe gives him the silence to continue.

“He said, that he would learn how to love me again if I got rid of you. Like- distanced myself, sort of, you know.”

Joe successfully suppresses the expression of absolute disgust that threatens to make an appearance, and nods understandingly. “And?”

“And I left.” Jos smiles, the first genuine, spontaneous smile, in a while. 

“ _Sunshine_ ,” slips out of Joe’s mouth. Not as a term of endearment, but, as a statement.

Jos ducks his head. Joe pulls the covers aside, and Jos takes the invitation, slipping under them gracefully.

He inches himself the slightest bit closer, until Joe realises what he’s doing, and pulls them flush together, tucking Jos into his chest. Normally, when they do end up in the same bed, whether it’s due to pre-match stresses, or post-lost-game comfort, it’s the other way around. But Joe figures, that Jos spends so much time looking after him, that he can repay the favour. Not that they ever really think of it like that, because, well, they’re them.

Jos turns himself around in Joe’s arms, and presses a tiny kiss to the corner of the younger boy’s mouth. Joe smiles at him sleepily, and brushes a finger over his cheekbone.

“I think Jimmy almost beat me to running him over you know?”

Jos blinks owlishly. “Oh. Right. I should’ve told you I hadn’t mentioned that…” Jos scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah, he didn’t take it well, did he?”

Joe leans forward to peck Jos’ cheek. “Absolutely not.” He says with a giggle. “Ali had to take the keys away.”

Jos shakes his head fondly.

“Thank you.”

“I told you Jos, you’re always welcome.”

“You know, you might be right.”

“Hm? About what? I’m right about a lot of things.”

“Just the one so far actually.”

Joe feigns shock, horror, and disbelief.

It has Jos in a fit of laughter. It’s infectious. When they’ve stopped cackling like idiots, he says “maybe the universe does know what it’s doing.”

Joe kisses his forehead again. “I think it just might.”

They fall asleep quickly, Joe finally able to sleep peacefully. When he wakes up, almost twelve hours later, he tells himself, that it’s probably because he was so tired. But he knows, that it’s really because of the blonde boy still tucked against his body.

He snaps a photo of a sleeping Jos (still in his arms) and sends it to Jimmy. _He’s in good hands, I promise._ In reply, he gets a selfie of Jimmy, with a sleeping Ali against his chest.

**

Jos’ suitcase is unpacked and his clothes are arranged into _their_ wardrobe by that evening.

**

The next week there’s a new set of shaving equipment, towels and body wash in _their_ bathroom.

**

Six months later, they’re dating. (After Joe jumped Jos… in the kitchen… because of some salmon.)


End file.
